The Art of Poetry

 

Throughout history and many cultures the poets have plied their trade,

an art form stretching back across the years to the present day.

It is a talent which comes from an inexhaustable source,

as ideas and thoughts become words on an empty page.

 

The artist sits with easel, canvas and a pallet to paint,

his brrush strokes bring images onto the canvas before him.

He studies shapes and colours, perspective and form,

to record what he sees and as his mind has explored.

 

The poet is more modestly equipped with pen and paper,

a note book, ink and maybe some blotting paper..

He travels light with an enquiring mind and an observant eye,

to register, to contemplate the world he sees and comes to know.

 

Both artist and poet are brothers together in the realm of art,

yet they are set apart in their medium of expression.

They observe, ponder and cogitate before each brush stroke or word is written,

They speak about the world they see and know and portray it.

 

I have an image of the painter by the sea or sat in the countryside,

alone with the tools of his art engrossed by what he sees.

Then the poet with pen and paper in hand at a table,

where both enjoy solitude to ponder.

 

One paints whilst the other writes, with people to entrance and captivate,

to display beauty, to challenge the mind and to express a sense of individuality.

They are both given in an inner command to paint or write,

it is the inexpressable and the incomprehensible which then comes forth.

 

Poems and paintings, works of art endure in time,

long after the authors have left this mortal frame.

Their creative spirit lives on in their work,

as the pen is mightier than the sword.